


The Cold, The Dark, & The Silence

by superwolves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Pyromania, sad lonely teens, spray paint art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superwolves/pseuds/superwolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison just gives him a smile and says, “It’s okay, Stiles. That’s okay.” </p><p>It’s really not okay but Stiles can deal with that later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cold, The Dark, & The Silence

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: There's some art mentioned that is based off this pic: http://curatedmag.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/Air_Mac1csm-540x405.jpg

Two weeks after school lets out for the summer, Chris Argent and his daughter have an extremely public falling out in the middle of the town grocery store. There’s shouting and hurtful words are thrown as well as several produce items. Most of the town whispers about it for days. Things like _Poor girl, losing her mother like that had to be damaging_ and _that Argent lost his wife, sister, and father all in one year. Let’s hope he doesn’t lose his daughter too._ Most are surprised that the two hadn’t banded together after their losses, but not Stiles. He knows that losing too much at once could either make or break a relationship. He knows how lies could stretch that bond until it snapped. It mirrors his own life in ways he would rather not admit.

What does surprise Stiles is the sight of Allison sitting on his couch, wrapped in his father’s Sheriff Jacket when he stumbles through the front door one afternoon. She lifts her head at the sound of the door, and he shoots her a confused look. He’s met with a cold gaze. It’s not filled with anger, but it’s not the perpetual smile he had grown accustom to. He wonders briefly if that Allison will ever reemerge.

He heads to the kitchen to find his father browning ground beef. Stiles knows that this means his father is making tacos. Tacos mean that the Sheriff is about to tell Stiles something he doesn’t want to hear.

“Mind telling me why Allison freaking Argent is relaxing in the living room?” he hisses.

His father throws him a petulant glance before turn back to his cooking. “You and I both know that girl is not relaxing.”

“Okay, true. But that doesn’t explain what she’s doing here,” Stiles presses. He and Allison have never really been the type to just visit each other’s homes unannounced. Not unless Scott was involved. And neither of them were really involved with Scott these days.

His father sighs. “Sit down, son. There’s something we have to discuss.”

Stiles slides into a dining chair without another word. If his father was making tacos and using his Sheriff Voice, then Stiles knows better than to argue.

The Sheriff leans on the table, hands bracing his weight. “Chris Argent has decided that Beacon Hills is no longer a place that he wants to be.” He waits for Stiles to give him a stiff nod before continuing. “However, he promised Allison that she could finish out the remainder of high school here. It’s not the ideal situation but the two of them are at each other’s throats and could really use a break from each other. If anything it’ll help them see how much they need each other.”

Stiles thinks for a beat. “Okay, so Chris is leaving and Allison’s staying. Great. But what does that have to do with us?”

His father scrubs a hand over his face. “Argent hauled in a favor. Giving everything he’s been through recently, I obliged. So, Allison is going to be staying in the guest room for a month or so. Just until the emancipation papers go through. Chris left this afternoon.”

Stiles nearly jumps out of his chair. “Dad, so much of what you just said is messed up. First of all,” Stiles raises his index finger in front of him, “Why do you owe Chris Argent any _favors_? Second,” he holds up another finger, “why would he just up and leave his daughter like that?” Stiles slaps his hand down on the table. “And _why_ does she have to stay _here_?”

“Look, I know it’s hard. She’s your best friend’s ex- girlfriend. There’s bound to be some animosity. But she has nowhere else to go. Scott will understand.” That really didn’t answer Stiles’ questions but he chooses to ignore that for now.

“Yeah, well I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Scott and I are kind of on a break right now.” Stiles was on a break from everything werewolf. He was tired and just wanted to have a nice normal summer. Scott had translated that into Stiles not wanting him around. The universe must really hate him.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him around with the Lahey boy a lot. I wasn’t aware that they were friends.” Stiles knows this is his father’s attempt at gaining information, but Stiles just really isn’t in the mood to lie.

“They just have a lot in common I guess. More than Scott and I do right now,” Stiles murmurs. He looked down at his hands. They were shaking slightly.

“Well I’m sure you’ll fix this. You two have been through so much together. The way he helped out after your m-”

“Dad! Can we please not do this right now?” Stiles pleads. He runs a hand through his short hair. He certainly does not want to dredge up anything that happened when he and Scott were eleven. It was the worst year of their lives. Though this past one was a very close second.

His father just sighs and pats his shoulder. Then he turns around and sets out the items necessary for tacos. Once he’s satisfied, he calls out, “Allison! Dinner’s ready.”

The girl comes in from the living room looking very unsure of herself. She glances at Stiles before turning her gaze to the Sheriff. “I left your jacket on the couch.” She speaks so quietly it’s almost a whisper.

The Sheriff just nods and smiles. He hands her a plate, gesturing to Stiles to get up and grab some food as well. When the two teens have their food and are sat at the table, he grabs a plate for himself. The phone rings. After some intense grumbling of _yeah_ , _uh huh_ , and _are you sure?_ The Sheriff hangs up. He looks at his plate, then at Stiles and Allison, then at his plate again. “That was the station. Apparently some hoodlums thought it would be funny to put Mr. Harris’ car in the Beacon Hills High pool. How they did it I’m not sure.” He chuckles a little and heads for the door, calling out that he’d be back later to devour that taco.

Stiles lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. No “animal attacks” tonight. He looks at Allison, relief flooding her face. She must have had the same thought.

The two eat in silence. They don’t talk about werewolves of any kind. Including Scott. Especially Scott. They don’t talk about the fact that Lydia is giving them both the cold shoulder for lying to her. (But hey, Stiles is used to her ignoring him. It doesn’t sting so much anymore. Nothing does, really. He’s quite numb.) They don’t talk about what they lost too soon. They just chew and try not to catch the other’s eye.

Stiles finishes first, but waits until Allison is done before he gets up. His mother raised him to be a gentleman. Well, she would have, anyway.

He takes her plate and puts them both in the dishwasher. He hears Allison mention something about a shower. He nods but doesn’t face her. He waits until he hears her footsteps disappear before heading up to his room.  He tries to get a jump start on his summer reading list, but he just doesn’t have the energy for _The Great Gatsby_ at the moment. He shrugs off his jeans and lies back on his bed with a sigh.

Faintly, he can hear music. It’s coming from the bathroom. At first he assumes Allison is listening to the radio while she showers. It takes him a moment to realize she’s actually singing. Stiles can’t hear the words but it sounds like the saddest song he’s ever heard. His heart swells for a brief second before returning to its recent emptiness. He turns his own music on after that. (Hours later, when he’s in the throes of insomnia, he hears a shaky sob from the guest room. This time he wills himself to ignore it and finally falls into a fretful sleep.)

\-----

A few days later, it’s 2:34am and Stiles is once again staring at his ceiling. He’s thinking about counting sheep when he hears the subtle creak of a door followed by footsteps far too light to be his father’s. No matter what’s going on with him, Stiles is still Stiles, and he’s still nosy as fuck. So he counts to ten before getting out of bed and throwing on some jeans and a hoodie. He tugs on his shoes and is out the door in less than a minute.

He stays about twenty feet behind Allison, ducking behind cars or bushes whenever she turns around. He has to admit, he’s gotten much better at this sneaking and spying thing. He follows her down a dark alley, which makes him feel like a major creep for all of about thirty seconds. Then Allison stops and grabs something out of the bag Stiles hadn’t noticed she’d been carrying. At first he thinks it’s a gun and has the startling fear that she’s going to off herself in the middle of the dirty alley behind his dentist’s office. But he quickly realizes that it’s a spray paint can as he watches her get to work on the wall in front of her.

Allison sprays the paint in quick, sure movements as if she’s done this before. She switches between white paint and black paint, and her art comes to life. Stiles watches her work for over an hour maybe two.  She makes quick work of the hair, it cascades the wall like a water fall. She spends more time on the face, and Stiles is surprised by how much it actually looks like a face. But what captivates Stiles the most is the hands. Not just because hands are a bitch to draw and Allison paints them like it’s nothing, but because of how much the hands are saying. They’re curled into the girl, closing her off to the world. Like she wants to reach out but can’t. Maybe Stiles is reading too much into it. He’s never been good with art.

Allison steps back with a satisfied sigh. Stiles, momentarily forgetting he was supposed to be unseen, moves toward her. He comes to a stop behind her and lets out a breathless, “Wow.”

Allison jumps a little before recovering. She turns around and gives him a small smile. “Don’t tell your dad.”

Stiles chuckles. “Don’t worry. We’ve both done things much more illegal than a little vandalism. Your secret is safe with me. Where did you learn to do this anyway?” He makes a sweeping gesture at the well in front of them.

“Well I tried painting, drawing, poetry. I’ve done it all, but nothing really fit. Then one day I stumbled across a video on youtube where this guy painted an entire mural using spray paint. So, I thought I’d give it a go. Turns out it was something I could actually do, even though I’m not that good.” She shrugs a little.

“Are you kidding?” Stiles exclaims. “This is amazing! Allison, really it’s flawless. I mean-” He wildly gestures toward it, hoping to convey his awe.

Allison smiles, a little wider this time. “Well, I’m no Banksy, but thank you.”

Stiles can’t help but smile back. “You’re very welcome.” The two smile at each other for a few moments before Allison shivers. She isn’t wearing a jacket. Even though it’s summer, nights are still pretty cold in Northern California. Stiles whips of his hoodie and hands it to her.

“Oh, Stiles, no. you don’t-” Stiles cuts her off with a wave of his other hand.

“Allison, please. You’re cold. I’m not. Take it.” Seeing that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, Allison pulls the hoodie over her head. It’s big on her, but not comically big. Satisfied, Stiles jerks his head toward the direction of the house, and the two set off.

They walk in a comfortable silence until Stiles asks, “Am I the only one who knows?” It comes out as a whisper, his breaths puff in the night air.

Allison looks at her feet. “You are now.” She doesn’t elaborate and Stiles doesn’t ask her to. Instead, he opts for shoving his hands in his pockets and not speaking for the rest of the walk home.

\-----

They settle into a bit of a pattern after that. Stiles sleeps until noon, then plays video games or watches TV for a few hours. Then he dicks around on the internet until Allison gets home from her job at the outlet mall a town over. The two sit in the living room, watching TV or reading, not talking but enjoying each other’s company, until the Sheriff gets home. Stiles and Allison take turns making dinner (Allison insisted it was the least she could do after all the hospitality they were showing her.) They all sit around the table and eat while the sheriff attempts idle chit chat. Then Stiles and Allison head up to their rooms respectively.

Every few nights around 1 or 2am, Allison opens his door to wake him up (to be honest he’s never sleeping) and the two walk to some abandoned building or empty strip of wall. For a couple hours, Stiles watches Allison at work, enthralled. Then, when Allison is content, they head home. Allison always forgets a jacket, and Stiles always gives her his hoodie.

The thing is, Stiles hates patterns. He feels like he’s slipping into monotony. He knows he could get a job like Allison, but he really hates the idea of working his summer away. Still, he isn’t doing much else.

He’s lying in his bed when he starts to get antsy. Not just a normal antsy, but the kind that requires him to do something, something big. He hasn’t had this feeling in a while. Not since he started going with Allison while she painted. But even that wasn’t giving the high it used to.

There was one thing that always gave him a rush, but he hadn’t done it in so long. Not since the summer before werewolves took over his life. Before he can think about it, he pulling on his shoes and heading for his jeep. He drives to the grocery store and casually strolls to the section he’s looking for. He grabs a few boxes of matches and two liters of liter fluid. He turns to make his way to the register when he runs smack into Scott.

“Hey, man. I thought I smelled you in here.” Scott has his usual dopey grin on his face until he sees what Stiles is holding. He furrows his brows. “What are you doing with that stuff?”

“Oh, um, Dad wants to barbecue tonight.” When Scott just nods, Stiles wonders if he’s that good at lying or if Scott just doesn’t care.

“Oh okay!” Scott takes a step closer and he has his serious face on. “I wanted to talk to you about something. I know that Allison is staying with you. She and I are cool and all. But I don’t think that I should be coming by while she’s there. I’m trying to give her space like she wanted.”

Stiles can’t seem to hold back a humorless laugh. “You’re not coming by anyway, Scott.”

Scott takes a step back. “I thought that was what you wanted too? Space? A break from werewolves?”

“A break from werewolves, not a break from my best friend!” He sucks in a breath. “You seem to be holding up just fine without me though. How is Isaac?”

Now Scott looks confused. “Isaac? He’s fine. But why- No Stiles I’m not trying to replace you! It’s just-”

“The two of you have a lot in common. I get it.” Stiles looks at the ground, wishing he was anywhere but the fucking grocery store.

“Yeah, that’s all it is! Isaac and I have a lot in common. Just like you and Allison probably do.” Stiles squeezes his eyes shut. He hears Scott gasp at the realization of what his words meant.

“Whatever, Scott. I have to go.” He pushes past his friend and begins to walk out of the aisle. He turns back around when Scott calls his name.

“What happened to ‘you still got me’?”

Stiles sighs and looks his friend in the eye. “You still got me. The real question is do I still have you?” He doesn’t wait to hear an answer. He just pays for his things and leaves.

He heads straight to his room and shuts the door. Normally he would wait until night fall to do this right, but he can’t wait. He grabs a stack of paper from his desk and sets it on the ground. He opens the window before settling himself underneath it. He strikes one of the matches against the box and watches the flame for a moment. Then he takes a sheet of paper and holds it to the flame.

As the flame eats away at the paper, a sense of relief runs through him. The tension leaves his body as he focuses on the faint orange glow and the smell of smoke in the air. He’s so engrossed in it he doesn’t hear the door open. His head shoots up when Allison screeches his name.

“Oh,” he says dumbly. After a second he reacts, putting the fire out in a glass of water on the desk. He takes in her wide eyes and winces. “Is fire like a sore subject for you?” He’s recalling that fire probably leads to Kate and werewolves and everything left unspoken between the two of them.

Allison’s gaze hardens. “No, but what if that hadn’t been me? What if it had been your father? You need to be more careful.” She takes a few steps forward and crouches on her haunches. She takes the lighter fluid sitting next to Stiles and examines it before putting it back down. “I have a better place you could do this. We’ll go after your dad goes to bed.” With that she snaps up and leaves his room.

Stiles stares after her for a moment. It’s only when he scrambles to get off the floor that he realizes he’s hard in his jeans.

\-----

After Stiles says goodnight to his dad, he paces around his room. This isn’t like anything they’ve done before. This is- well, Stiles doesn’t know what it is but he’s anxious as hell. He just wants to go and get it over with and _where the hell is Allison?_

After twenty minutes, she comes through his door. She’s wearing a t-shirt like always. Stiles knows it’s going to be cold wherever they’re going so he throws a hoodie over his flannel. That way they’ll both be warm later. He grabs the bag that holds their supplies and murmurs, “Let’s go.”

They opt to take the jeep instead of walk. Allison gives him directions that lead them to the back entrance of the woods. In retrospect, going to the woods is probably a terrible idea for two humans trying to avoid werewolves, especially with the “Alpha Pack” or whatever that was coming to terrorize everyone. But neither of them could be bothered to worry about it, they just travel further into the woods.

Eventually they end up at clearing that Stiles hadn’t known existed. They hop out of the jeep and examine their surroundings. “How did you know about this place?”

Allison shrugs. “My dad brought me out here for training before.” When he nods she changes the topic. “Let’s get some wood into a pile, yeah?”

They set to work, dragging small branches and twigs into a pile. Stiles clears away the underbrush. Last thing they need is a forest fire on their hands. Once they’re satisfied with their bundle, Stiles throws some moss on top. He strikes a match and throws it in. The moss picks it up first, burning quickly. The flames descend onto the twigs and branches until they're engulfed in a small blaze. Stiles looks to Allison who nods and squirts a little lighter fluid on the heap. Instantly the flames dance higher.

 Stiles laughs, a hearty open laugh like he used to. He throws off his hoodie and sets it on the ground; far away enough not catch fire but still close enough to feel its warmth. He sits on it and gestures for Allison to join him. Stiles stares at the fire for a few minutes. He feels eyes on him and turns. Allison is staring right at him with a smile on her face. His face feels hot and only partly because of the fire.

“What?” he questions. They had this glorious inferno in front of them and she was looking at _him_?

“I’ve just never seen you like this before. So completely _absorbed_. Is this what it’s like when you watch me do my art?” The flames dancing in her eyes mirror the ones they created.

“Well, yeah, I guess so.” His heart picks up. His eyes dart to her mouth when she breathes out.

“Wow.” That’s all she says but it feels like so much more. Stiles has the fleeting thought that he’s hard once again. Before he knows what he’s doing, he darts forward and captures her lips with his own.

Stiles is surprised when Allison returns the kiss with enthusiasm. He takes that as the all clear to bite at her bottom lip. She opens her mouth to gasp and Stiles take the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth. Allison moans and he’s suddenly much harder than he was before, if that’s even possible. Tentatively, he lowers them onto the ground, making sure to keep Allison on the hoodie underneath them. He pushes her thighs apart and put his own in the space created. Allison rests her hands on his shoulders and pulls away to breath. Stiles makes the move to her neck, kissing and sucking at a spot that makes her whine. He’s sure that there will be a mark tomorrow and he’s quite pleased with himself.

Stiles stops when he realizes Allison is mumbling something. He straightens over her again. “Hmm?” He looks her in the eyes. They're dark with lust and still reflecting the fire that’s behind them. Stiles’ dick jumps.

“Clothes,” Allison breathes. “Too many clothes.” And _oh,_ okay. Sties can get with the program. He takes his flannel off and throws it over towards the jeep, away from the flames. Next he sets to work at helping Allison out of her t-shirt, throwing that as well. Then she’s tugging at the hem of his shirt so he tugs that off too.

Stiles looks down at her and he really can’t believe this is happening. He opens his mouth to say as much, but he opts to leaned down and crash their lips together again instead. They’re pressed flush against each other and it’s enough to make him moan. Skin to skin contact is new to Stiles and he loves it. Allison seems to be enjoying herself too, because she’s sliding her foot up his leg and rocking her hips up.

Stiles takes the hint and grinds his hips down against her. She gasps and Stiles worries he’s going to come right there in his jeans. He does it again two more times, eliciting the same reaction. Finally he can’t take it anymore, and he leans up to undo his jeans. Allison grips tight to his shoulders until she seems to get what he’s doing. Stiles hands shake as he undoes the button. He stops and looks at Allison. “I’ve, um, I’ve never done this before.”

Allison just gives him a smile and says, “It’s okay, Stiles. That’s okay.”

It’s really not okay but Stiles can deal with that later. Right now he’s awkwardly shimmying out of his jeans. He takes a break to kiss Allison before moving his hands to the waistband of her yoga pants. He looks to her for confirmation and when she nods he pulls them down her legs. Impatient, he presses himself against her again. Even more skin to skin contact has him biting back a groan.

“Stiles,” Allison whispers in his ear. “I want you to touch me.”

He actually groans this time. He buries his face in her neck. “Allison, you can’t just _say_ shit like that.” He kisses her neck one more time before dropping down to her waist. He makes quick work of removing her panties, which are soaked. Breathing hard, he cautiously pushes a finger inside her. He moves it in and out and judges Allison’s reaction. She is breathing harder, and her hips are jerking up slightly. He repositions himself so that he can go back to working at her neck. This seems to be the right choice because Allison’s panting.

“Another one,” she breathes. So he pushes another finger in and starts picking up the pace. Small breathy moans start escaping Allison’s lips and he can’t resist putting a kiss to them. Allison wraps on hand around the back of his neck and uses the other to place Stiles’ thumb on her clit. He gets the idea and begins circling his thumb. She responds by moaning directly into his mouth. He moves his fingers faster and in time with the circling of his thumb. Allison grips his back and drops her head to bite down on his shoulder. She jerks her hips violently and Stiles feels her climax against his hand.

He takes his hand away and places it above Allison’s head, bracing himself. He chances a look at her and decides it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. Her eyes are closed, her face is flushed and she has the smallest happiest smile. He leans in and kisses her. This seems to jolt Allison out of her haze, because she makes a surprised noise. When they break apart she looks him in the eye and says, “Stiles.”

He knows exactly what she’s asking but he has to be clear. “Are you sure?” When she nods, he slips his boxers off. Allison reaches between them to line him up with her entrance. He inhales and slowly pushes in.

He goes slowly at first, unsure. But when Allison wraps her legs around him he grows more confident. He picks up speed. She matches each one of his thrusts and Stiles can’t help but think how perfectly they fit together. They shouldn’t though. It should be wrong. It _is_ wrong because he’s Stiles and she’s Allison and they were never meant for this. But finally Stiles feels something. He isn’t numb. He feels an ache deep in his chest and he just wants more.

He feels himself coming closer to the edge and tries to pull out, but Allison just grips her legs around him tighter. He tries to tell her but she shakes her head. “No. Inside me.” And with her words he comes harder than he ever has before.

He comes down from his high and slips out of her, rolling onto his side. They lay there, just looking at each other. Neither one of them willing to break this perfect moment. Because what could be said that would leave it intact?

Eventually the cold gets the better of them. They stand up on wobbly legs and look for their clothes. Stiles sees now that the fire has burned down to embers. He grabs a bottled water from the jeep and pours it over the heap of ash, finishing it off.

Silently, the two get in the jeep. They don’t leave. There are too many things that have gone unspoken between them. Some of them can’t be ignored anymore. Not after what they did. Stiles decides to get the biggest issue out of the way first.

“Scott.” Saying his name out loud hurts a little more than Stiles thought it would. “Do you still love him?” He’s terrified when he realizes the answer matters to him.

Allison sighs and looks at her hands in her lap. “I don’t know. This back and forth. It’s so much and I don’t think I can take it anymore. I mean a part of me will always love him. But I think it might really be over this time.”

Stiles doesn’t know what to say. He got the answer he wanted, but he doesn’t feel happy about it. So he just nods and taps his fingers on the steering wheel.

“What about you?” Allison asks quietly. “Are you still in love with Lydia?”

Stiles laughs at that. “I don’t think I ever really was. I had a crush on her in elementary school. Then in middle school my mom died and I kind of clung to the idea that Lydia could be the one to like make me whole again or something. I don’t know, it’s stupid.” By the end, Stiles is whispering.

It takes a beat before Allison speaks. “After my mom died, all I could think about was making those responsible feel as empty as I did. I didn’t think about the consequences. Then I found out what really happened and I felt like the biggest fuck up-” She cuts off with a sob.

Stiles quickly takes her hand. “Hey, no. You’re not a fuck up at all. I would have done the same in your situation. At least you can admit your mistake.”

Allison gives him a watery smile and kisses him on the lips. He starts the jeep and drives out of the woods, hand firmly clenched in Allison’s. Stiles isn’t sure what this is, what it means. He’s not sure how he’s going to tell Scott or what will happen to their already threadbare friendship. He can’t even begin to think of how to factor werewolf shit into it. All he can do is drive and hope for the best.


End file.
